City Love
by Tez
Summary: Just your average, everyday love affair...pure JC fluff.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Law and Order.

* * *

"Ready?" 

Jack looked up from the stack of files on his desk, and the guilt in his expression gave her the answer to her question before he spoke.

"Almost. I just have to –"

She waved a dismissive hand at him, shucking off her overcoat and tossing it onto the coat rack in the corner before flopping down on his couch.

"Uh-huh," she agreed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Just wake me up when you're ready to go."

"It won't be that long," Jack lied, knowing the closing statement he was currently penning would take him at least another hour to complete. Claire made a noise that from someone less elegant would have been a snort, and grabbed the throw blanket from the back of the couch, draping it over herself.

"Make it before eleven, please," she replied, closing her eyes. "That's when the restaurant closes."

He didn't dignify her comment with a response, returning his attention instead to his closing statement. He'd used 'justice' too many times. Maybe if he changed it here to 'fairness', and rearranged the second paragraph…

When he looked up again, finally satisfied that the statement would convince the jury that the defendant deserved to be stoned to death or at least imprisoned for life, he smiled at the sight that met his eyes. Claire was fast asleep on his couch, her dark hair fanned out against the brown leather. Her chest rose and fell rhythmically, her soft breathing audible in the otherwise silent office.

He left his desk to kneel beside her, smoothing a stray strand of hair away from her lovely face. He knew Claire had wanted him to wake her as soon as he was finished working, but it was hard for him to disturb her when she looked so peaceful.

"Claire?" he murmured finally, laying a gentle kiss on her cheek. She mumbled something under her breath but stayed asleep. He felt a familiar tightness in his chest, a combination of tenderness and awe and overwhelming love for this woman who had so completely stolen his heart. He hadn't thought he could ever love anyone this way, but Claire Kincaid's unique mix of outspoken passion and shy innocence had captivated him. She was the first woman he'd ever truly fallen for, and the fact that she returned his feelings still took his breath away.

"Time to wake up, sweetheart," he whispered in her ear, taking her hand in his and rubbing it tenderly. Even half-asleep she turned instinctively toward his touch, yawning as her eyes fluttered open.

"Hey, you," she murmured, smiling up at him, and his heart skipped a beat at the warmth in her honey-colored eyes. "Is it morning already?"

"Very funny," he replied dryly, standing up as she pushed herself into a sitting position. "Ready for dinner?"

"Mmm." She looked speculatively at him, patting the cushion beside her. "In a minute."

He sat obediently, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. She leaned back against his chest, closing her eyes again.

"I love you," she sighed contentedly. "You know?"

"I know," he agreed, laying a soft kiss on the top of her head as he gave silent thanks that inthe metropolis of Manhattan, famous for being impersonal and heartless, they'd found each other. Claire brought the love and laughter into his life that he had craved since his childhood. In her presence, for the first time in his memory, he felt completely comfortable in his own skin. It was an incredible gift, and she gave it freely, asking only for his love in return. "I love you, Claire."

She smiled, nuzzling his jaw. "_Now_ we can go to dinner," she decreed, standing up. He followed her obediently over to the coat rack, taking herovercoat from her and guiding her arms into the sleeves. She gave him a grateful smile and he kissed her in response, grabbing his own coat as an afterthought as they left his office.

"Good thing you remembered that," she teased, pointing at his coat as they headed for the elevator. "You might've been a little chilly without it."

The temperature outside was in the teens and dropping by the second now that the sun had gone down. He'd always hated the bitter cold of New York in the winter, and Claire knew it. She teased him about his love of heavy wool sweaters, but she never failed to add extra blankets to their bed when the weather turned cooler. It was just one of the countless little ways she took care of him, and one more reason he loved her so much.

Jack shrugged casually, gesturing for Claire to precede him into the empty elevator. As the doors slid shut, he embraced her from behind, pulling her body flush against his.

"I don't know about that," he murmured, his breath on her neck sending a pleasant shiver through her.

"No?"

"No." He nipped at her earlobe, reveling in her delighted giggle. "You're pretty good at keeping me warm."

They traded a look filled with loving desire, and Jack smiled to himself. When the elevator dinged, signaling their arrival on the ground floor, he stole a kiss and led her out into the snow. The cold held no threat for him tonight…not when he had Claire to warm his heart.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Law and Order still doesn't belong to me.

A/N: Finally, a place for all my plotless J/C fluff!

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All of the seats on the subway are taken. I sigh, reluctantly grabbing the nearest handhold and trying not to think about what a large proportion of the unwashed masses of Manhattan may have also touched that particular bar today. I shift my weight from one foot to the other as the train starts to move, trying to relieve the painful throbbing in my feet. My shoes are new, and they're just a little bit too tight. I'm sure that when I take them off tonight, I'll have a couple of huge blisters to deal with.

The train jerks and I nearly fall into the lap of the forty-something man sitting in front of me. He leers at me and I step back hurriedly, bumping into an elderly woman who snaps something derogatory at me in Spanish. I speak the language well enough to know what she said, but I'm too tired to get into an argument with her over the rather explicit insult, so I move away with a muttered apology.

After what seems like an eternity, the train reaches my stop and I push my way off. As I make my way out of the station and head for my apartment building, the day's events run through my head, reminding me why I'm in such a bad mood.

The day started out bad and only got worse. I woke up feeling achy and tired. Jack was already gone to an early hearing, so I grabbed a quickly cooling cup of coffee from the pot he'd already brewed and went in to work alone. My car is in the shop, so I had to take the subway. I spent most of my morning doing paperwork Jack couldn't be bothered to finish, bitter that he was out prosecuting a double homicide and I was stuck in the office writing motions. He breezed into the office around one in the afternoon, all smiles, and told me he had his conviction in the bag. I reminded him that we were supposed to have lunch together at noon and he apologized for being late. It's rare for Jack to apologize for anything, so I was about to forgive him when he grabbed his coat and briefcase again, told me he had some personal errands to run, and took the rest of the day off. This little maneuver left me simmering with impotent fury, a mountain of his paperwork to finish stacked on my desk.

I didn't finish the paperwork until six-fifteen, and now it's almost seven and I'm just starting my five-block stroll from the subway station to my apartment. On top of it all, it's thirty degrees in Manhattan tonight, with a wind chill factor of at least twenty, and my five-year-old winter coat has finally bowed to the overwhelming force of the weather. I can feel the cold seeping in through the too-thin fabric, and the little hole just below my left shoulder is making it feel like someone has jammed an icicle into my upper arm.

I finally make it home, and trudge up the stairs inside my apartment building, grateful for the protection from the biting cold outside. That gratitude evaporates when I step into an icy puddle of slush someone tracked onto the landing, soaking my left foot.

"That just figures," I sigh, resigned exhaustion warring with righteous anger and winning. "I never should have gotten out of bed this morning."

Cursing the weather, the world, and Jack McCoy, I struggle with frozen fingers to fit my key into the deadbolt. After a minimum of fumbling, the door opens with a sullen click. I step inside, smiling against my will as my nose catches the scent of warm cherries. I know that smell. As frustrated as I've been all day, it's hard to stay angry with Jack when he makes my favorite dessert.

I found out that he could cook six months ago. For the first few months after we started sleeping together, I always got up before him to make breakfast. I'm still not sure whether I was trying to impress him with my domestic skills or it was just a habit. One day, I had a nasty head cold and I slept through my alarm. Jack woke up, turned my backup alarm off so it wouldn't wake me, and made us a five-star gourmet breakfast. I routinely plead with him to cook for me again, but he only acquiesces on special occasions.

"Hello?" I call, shutting the door behind me and slipping my coat off.

"Hey," Jack replies easily, sticking his head out of the kitchen. "I hope you're hungry."

"Starving," I start to say, but my voice trails off when I turn to the coat rack. My hand pauses in the act of hanging my coat on its usual hook next to his. There's already a coat hanging there. It's full length and gorgeous, made of sinfully soft dark brown microsuede and lined with quilted down-filled flannel.

"Well, try it on," Jack says teasingly. I spin around to find that he's left the kitchen and is standing a few feet from me, grinning at my shock.

"Jack, what – why –"

"You needed a new one," he laughs, taking my old coat from my unresisting hands. "Try it on, Claire."

"This is what you were doing today," I say slowly, stroking the coat with loving fingers. It really is beautiful. It's the sort of thing I'd buy for myself if I didn't feel so damn guilty about spending hundreds of dollars on clothes. Apparently, Jack doesn't have that problem. "When you went out this afternoon…you were shopping? For me?"

"Guilty as charged."

"But you hate to shop. And God, Jack, this has to have been expensive. It's too much."

"Claire," he says softly, cupping my cheek in his palm and turning my face toward his. "Have you _seen_ your coat?"

I laugh, surprised that he noticed my coat was becoming threadbare. As superlative as Jack's ability to spot the tiniest flaw in a defendant's story is, he never seems to pick up on the little details of everyday life.

"I love you more than I hate shopping," he continues, and I can hear rare unguarded affection in his voice. "And after everything you've done for me, this isn't too much. It's not anywhere near enough."

"Well, it's a good start," I tell him, feeling tears prick at my eyes and blinking them back impatiently. I can't believe I'm getting misty-eyed over a new coat, but I know it really isn't about the coat. Jack took time off of work, which is a huge deal for him, and put serious effort into picking out a gift I'd love and that I really need. In the year that we've been lovers, this is one of the most thoughtful gestures he's made.

I throw my arms around him and kiss him passionately, and he returns the kiss with enthusiasm. When I start to urge him toward the couch, he pulls away, laughing at me again.

"_Claire_."

"Hmm?" I breathe, moving in to kiss him again. He ducks away as he reaches over my head, snatching the coat from the hook and holding it in front of me with a grin.

"Will you try on the damn coat already?"

I turn my back to him obediently, letting him help me slide my arms into the sleeves of the coat. It fits perfectly, and I'm immediately toasty warm. I move slowly in a circle, Jack's appreciative gaze following me.

"It looks good."

"It feels good," I agree, caressing the soft brown fabric again. "Oh, Jack, I can't believe you did this."

"And I made pie for dessert," he adds, pressing a light kiss to my cheek as he runs his fingers through my hair. "Your favorite. Work has been intense lately, Claire. I've pushed you harder than usual. You deserve a reward."

"A girl could get used to this kind of reward," I inform him as his lips move from my cheek to the side of my neck. I shiver involuntarily at the sensation, moaning softly. "I don't suppose there's anything I could do to even the score?"

"It took me four hours and six stores to find that coat," he murmurs against my skin, kissing his way down my neck to my collarbone. "Not to mention how much it cost me. I'd like to see you wear it."

"I am wearing it," I reply, confused. Jack chuckles.

"_Just_ the coat," he elaborates, his tone mischievous. I grin as I reach for the top button on my blouse, Jack's hands covering mine as he helps me pay him back. I guess I was wrong; today isn't such a bad day after all.


End file.
